A Light Unbound: The Redemption of a She orc
by Arabella Thorne
Summary: The tale of a she orc and her trip to Valinor, at the very end of the Third Age. There is gore and violence in this and Elrond does show up in this eventually
1. Default Chapter

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This is a very, very AU tale, set at the very end of the Third Age.

Balagz fell into the ravine with the rest of the orc troop. A phalanx of elves was sweeping their way. Balagz licked her lips. Perhaps they would all dine on sweet elf flesh this night. Not that she had actually had elf flesh. That was reserved for the captains. She and the others usually got what was left of the horses. Not that she'd been in many skirmishes. This was actually her first. She had just heard horses were all the rank and file got. Balagaz had spent most of her years helping in the armory and had never actually seen much battle.

The jingling of the elvish armor, which was hung about with tiny bells, rang their call through the morass of fighting and death. Their horses' hooves made no sound. There was only the jingling of bells and harness and the occasional elvish word.

Balagz peeked over the edge of the ravine and then quickly ducked out of sight as arrows began to whiz overhead.

They were upon them!

"Back to the river you scum! Dubruzh says back. We can trap them in the marsh!" Her commander bellowed as he ran past the startled orc.

Balagz got up and ran low with the others, leading the elvish host on, who followed with a shout. The bells and harness jingled louder.

Balagz took a quick look over her shoulder and then her eyes went wide. They were almost upon her! Looking about wildly, she rushed for cover. The ground had become more swampy as they neared the river.

An elvish arrow buried itself in her shoulder and with a cry of surprise; Balagz fell into the reedy riverside. The elvish host rushed past and soon, all Balagz heard was the scream of her fellow orcs and a few war cries from the elvish horses.

The she-orc dragged herself slowly out of the swamp and bending over, ran for the cover of a willow brake nearby.

The arrow began to burn in her shoulder. No doubt covered with some kind of elvish poison. Everyone said elves poisoned their arrows and swords, just as the orcs did.

Balagz hunkered down in the damp undergrowth and taking a deep breath tried to yank the arrow out. To no avail. It was not only deep in her flesh but wedged in by her leather armor. She tugged again and then stopped as she felt the blood trickle down her scarred flesh.

Taking a ragged breath, she curled up in the thick greenery and closed her eyes. Perhaps a bit of a nap would help while she waited for the skirmish to move on.

Morning burned through her eyelids and with a moan, the she-orc buried her face down in the mud. She had slept too long and now she could not move, blinded by the sun. She could feel it on the back of her neck burning. She scrunched up her shoulders.

Being face down in the mud gave her an idea. Perhaps the mud would help, at least on her neck. Grabbing big handfuls, she flung it on her shoulders and scrambled deeper into the muck. She lay as one dead through out the day.

Ah, but her dreams! They tortured her with images of elvish faces leaning close to her and..._kissing_ her! She groaned into the mud, sickened by her own fancies.

By nightfall, Balagz awoke and was very hungry The pain of the arrow had settled into a steady throbbing. 

She crawled to the river edge and found some frogs and a turtle to eat for supper.

Finished, she sat and listened to the night for awhile. There were only a few animal noises, the whir of the occasional insect. She could hear no Black Speech nor elvish. 

No groans either.

Standing slowly, the she-orc followed the river. She knew her 

commander had wanted them to go south to the river. It would bring them closer to the other divisions. 

As she trotted along, moving at the ground eating pace that she had been trained for, Balagz found herself uncharacteristically nervous.

She was alone. And she had been always surrounded by others, always orcs and Uruk-hai. Her pod nest was always thirteen, and though she was the smallest, it had been everything to her.

The only life she could remember took place in a dark warren of caves in the Misty Mountains. All she could remember was the welcoming dark. And of course, beatings and scarrings. Her crooked mouth formed a mockery of a smile as she brushed aside the tangled black ropes of her hair, now littered with tiny bird and knuckle bones from unfortunate orcs. And always there was pain, unrelenting. The kind that burned not only into her scared and pustuled skin, but burned into her mind until all she could see was pain and leering faces and hear the harsh Black Speech. There were also foul foods and liquors. Her frequently broken bones healed quickly, but they bent her body into a distorted and awkward shape.

She stumbled over a tree root and cursed her inattention. The stumbling jarred the arrow and the sharp burning renewed itself. Hissing at the unexpectedness of it she moved on, increasing her speed. She could not be weak. Not weak, no, no, never weak.

The weak...disappeared.

Her best nest mate, Albuhg had disappeared after he had broken a leg in a midnight skirmish against some Dwarves who had been mining too close to their nest.

Their leader had dragged him off and he had never been seen again.

For good measure, because Albuhg had been described as foolish, all the of the pod nest had been beaten with red hot irons. Balazg shivered. They had hurt, but she had said nothing, as had the others.

Avoiding the waning moonlight, for even that made her eyes water, Balagz covered many miles. She came upon the signs of a skirmish and with lucky, she found a dying horse. Taking her large sword, she happily hacked off a hind leg and reveled in the spurting blood and pain-filled grunts of the animal. Gnawing at the leg with hunger, she paused a moment, a strip of horsehide hanging from her mouth and dropped the leg in the torn up soil around her. Before her lay another horse, but beneath it, Balagz saw an elf! She could, at last, have sweet elf flesh!

Leaning down, she pulled out her sword and hacked off the extended arm. The elf had been dead long enough that there was little blood. The she-orc raised the arm for a taste, then noticed it was covered by armor. Roughly pushing aside the light armor to expose the forearm, the metal burned her hand. She hissed and dropped the limb. Staring at it, she bit her lip. Could she eat it anyway? No! Angry at her hunger and fear, she grabbed the partially eaten horse leg and ran off. She did not want to inspect any of the dead orcs. Finding her pod mates lying there would not be good.

But she halted and slowed her steps when her keen hearing brought her the sound of elvish being lightly spoken from a nearby stand of river oaks.

Creeping near, Balagz curled around a boulder to listen to the unusual speech of the elves. She had only heard shouts before and occasional barked commands. She continued eating her horse leg as she puzzled out the quiet words.

Their language was...different. Softer, like wind in the trees just before dawn. Balagz shook her head. What made her think of that?

She eyed the camp, carefully counting the number of elves. Sighing, in her wounded state it would be foolish to take on the ten or so warriors she could see.

Balagz settled close to the boulder watching and waiting for a chance to either move on or attack. Hunkering down, she thoughtfully pulled at the last of the horse meat and continued to observe the enemy.

She had drifted off again! She found herself being hauled up by two formidable looking elves. Her hands were already bound. She struggled sluggishly but in a few minutes, her legs were bound too. 

Why had they not killed her? A thin shiver went through her. Perhaps they too enjoyed lengthy torture?

Hissing and spitting curses, she tried to wiggle free, but the elvish knots were tight and firm and the rope burned her flesh.

Blinking in the rising sunlight, eyes watering again, she was roughly dragged to her feet and then thrown over a skittish elvish horse that was clearly not happy to have her on its back. An elf passing by snapped the arrow off and the subsequent pain made her faint.

Balagz woke, and a last, it was night. She struggled futilely against her bindings. But to no avail. Her skin had bubbled around the tight windings of rope.

An elf hunkered down until it was eye level with the orc. It spoke in its lilting language and then yanked the she-orc up by its greasy braids. Then a silver flask was pressed against her lips and a foul, thick liquor was forced down her throat.

Balagz tried to spit the liquid out but the elf hit her in the throat and she swallowed convulsively.

Her head was slammed down against the ground, sinking her into darkness again.

Balagz stirred in her sleep. _Not this dream! She had not had it in hundreds of years. The one with the elves in it. They were smiling and dancing under the stars, white flowers glowing at their feet. Suddenly, dark hulking shapes swept through the moon-silvered figures. They were all grabbed and the screams echoed through Balagz mind. She screamed as she felt herself lifted in the night, a terror filling her......_

Struggling, she tried to sit up, but her bindings pulled her up short again. A bucket of water was thrown on her. Blinking, she saw through running eyes that the sun was about to rise once more. She bellowed in fear and a nearby elf hit her with the haft of his spear. Balagz fell to the ground and buried her face in the dirt.

She was dragged to her feet and bound to the skittish horse again. Balagz vowed if she got free, these elves would pay with their lives.

The sun rose higher and Balagz tied face up, her arms and legs bound under the horse's belly, felt the sun burning her eyes. She was going to go blind. She would be taken away! She would never be able to eat elf flesh again! She struggled feebly, the embedded arrow working deeper into her hide.

Balagz passed out, her exposed skin bubbling more in the sunlight, her arrow wound burning.

Balagz found herself lying in sand and saw grass at the edge of the sea. It must be the sea! The smell of the water, the sound the waves made....Balagz winced. Once again she thought in confusion: How did she know this? Her home was the enveloping dark in the deep caverns of the Misty Mountains. The biggest water she had ever seen was the Anduin in full flood.

A campfire near her made her blink and she sat up. An elf approached her and then, began to speak haltingly in Black Speech.

"We need to know: where is the next big crash. All your kind are moving South. To Gondor? Mordor? "

Balagz so startled to hear her own tongue, just stared at the frowning elf. 

"Crash?" She growled back and then realized he meant battle. "I know not, elf dung."

The elf lifted a sword and hit her hard with the flat of it. "I have not the time for making nice," The elf said angrily. "You have been dragged here to talk! Tell me where you are gathering! To crash!'

Balagz laughed, the harsh sound louder than the waves hitting the sand.

Once again the elf struck her across the side of the face, this time, knocking her out.


	2. Chapter Two

When Balagz came to, she once again struggled against her bindings. She was alone, the night sky full of stars bent down to the far edge of the ocean before her. The she-orc stopped struggling a moment and then found herself staring out across the water, glittering with starry reflections.

The sea! Why did it pull at her so? It was just a big water. One would need a boat to go across it......to where?

Balagz shook her head and worked harder at her ropes.

As she struggled, she noticed there were few elves around her. She glanced off, away from the fire pit that glowed several yards to her left and noticed the lights of a town or village, miles away on the coast to her right.

A town! She had never before seen human dwellings, or elvish ones for that matter. She and the other orcs had not been allowed any stops for pillaging on their run to do battle. She grinned out at the darkness. And think of all the fresh meat waiting there. Perhaps, even tender little ones!

Balagz mouth watered at her thoughts and she struggled harder to get free.

The elvish rope burned her skin where it touched, which made her actions more frantic. Flinging herself against a boulder, she scraped the rope on the sharp stone until it finally split.

Balagz slowly brought her hands forward and picking up a rock, she scraped and pulled on the rope around her ankles. Her hands burned from the rope but she was determined to free herself.

Glancing about, she saw that most of the elves were around a campfire and caterwauling in elvish with musical instruments that hurt her ears. Debating about what she should do, the she-orc decided to leap to her feet and take on the elves in a ditch or die effort. She would certainly be able to kill some of them before she was killed. Before she could move, there was a sudden flurry of activity from beyond the fire.

Balagz did not hesitate. Forgoing a confrontation with the elves, she ran into the dark, trying to be as quiet as she could. Dodging through bushes and around boulders, the she-orc allowed herself to feel a flash of hope. Focusing on her path through the dark, she heard the shouting of the elves and put on more speed. Arrows began flying and Balagz ducked as she ran, but another arrow found her back. Her armor deflected the full thrust of the arrow, but it still managed to cut through and pierce her flesh.

Grunting, she hissed in anger at the burning the arrow caused and kept running.

Balagz ran all night, the pain of her arrow wounds settling down to an even throb.

Before the sun rose, Balagz, running through the rising sea tide, found a cave to hide in. Not relishing the water, she climbed back as far as she could and squatted on rocks slimy with seaweed. There was little to eat, but she pulled a few starfish she found nearby and cracked open a few mussels.

Thirst drove her to taste the salt water, but she spat it out in disgust.

Hunkering down, Balagz dropped her head on to her knees and slept.

The dreams again! _Running through trees and whimpering in fear! How could she, an orc, be whimpering in the woods? She heard the sound of heavy feet behind her and put on more speed. But it wasn't enough. A big arm, wrapped in black leather, grabbed her around the waist. She struggled but soon, her captor had knocked her on the head. But not before she had caught the smell of orc. An orc? Why was she running from one of her own people?_

Balagz woke with the confusing dream still fresh in her mind. Both her arrow wounds were festering and the pain was beginning to be something she could not ignore. The pain also made her angry. She crawled out of the cave into a night with no moon, but crashing waves and rain. She let out a bellow of rage that cut through the sound of the storm. Plowing through the rising tide, Balagz made her way back to shore.

Once on firm sand, she started running. The pain of the arrows was made worse by her movement.

As she ran, she realized she had no idea where to go, now that she was free of the elves. She knew her pod of orcs was far, far away from her. But perhaps, she could meet up with others. After all, Granx had told them that the Dark One was swallowing all of Middle Earth in this war. A war that would make the orcs the dominant people of all the lands.

Balagz grinned as the rain ran down her face. Think of all the man and elf flesh that would be there for the taking! She could, at last, try the sweet flesh raw and dripping with blood. She could torture the caterwauling elves and enjoy their screams. Pull off an arm and eat it in front of the cowering filth! Balagz rasped out a laugh and ran harder. Surely there were elves or men about that she could eat? 

She looked about. Yes! The lights of the town or village were much closer! Her stomach rumbled.

The night was half over when Balagz found herself slowing. She had not eaten anything since the night before, and only small sea creatures at that. There must be something out here to eat, something she could track down, even in her weakened state.

Once she stopped, she found the night was silent. The rain had tapered off into intermittent drizzle. Balagz wiped her face and stood blinking. Was the shine of light across the water even nearer?

Whipping the last of her strength up, she began to run again, hoping to gain the town soon.

As she neared the lights, she saw the town was an impressive collection of stone buildings and high towers, no small village.

There were boats of strange shapes sitting at the water's edge. She could make out small figures going to and fro from the wharf to the boats carrying things.

Balagz sat in the sea grass and thought. Perhaps if she could get on a boat, the food could not get away! It would be trapped on that little thing, far from help and arrows. And it could not hold many. Balagz rubbed her stomach and winced as she got up. Grateful that no one saw her weakness, she moved more carefully towards the boats, picking one that lay quiet on the water with no activity around it.

Creeping through the wiry plants that sprouted through the humps of sand dunes, Balagz eyed the ship closest to her. It had the head of a bird or some strange lizard. And the wood slightly glowed like the sides of some caves near Balagz' pod nest in the mountains.

She stood mesmerized for a moment, thinking back to her pod mates and her home. She hung her head. They would never see each other again.

Balagz did something uncharacteristic for her (and her kind) she threw her head up to look at the stars. There were so many and they made her feel sad and she did not know why.

Approaching the slightly bobbing ship, Balagz looked for a way to get in. Spying a hanging rope that went into the water, the she-orc grasped it and with a grimace, pulled herself hand over hand. The rope began to burn her hands, but she gritted her teeth and kept going.

Once she reached the top, she swung herself onto the deck of the ship. The slight rocking made her uncomfortable. Elves! How and why had they fashioned such a thing?

Hunger focused her wandering thoughts, so she began to follow her nose down into the ship. 

Walking a narrow gangway lit by one lone lantern that hurt her eyes, she opened a door and found an elf lying with eyes open on a small bench. Food! Balagz came up to the elf and before a shout could be raise, she strangled the elf and snapped his neck.

Quickly stripping the dead elf, Balagz yanked off an arm and began to eat.

The flesh WAS sweet! As was the blood pooling at her feet, which she paused to lap up. The tales were not wrong! Finished with the arm, Balagz threw the limb aside and was about to pull the other one off when a strong wave of sickness went through her.

She stood unsteadily on her feet, weaving. What could be wrong? The meat was fresh, delicious! What was the matter?

In a few moments, Balagz promptly threw up the contents of her stomach all over the mangled corpse at her feet.

Balagz, now feeling very sick, staggered out of the cabin and went further into the ship. No one could find her in this condition. It was too humiliating!

Stumbling, Balagz went down into the hold and crawling behind some stacked chests, curled up in a ball, nursing her bad stomach. Sweating, she fell into an uneasy doze.

Crying and wailing woke her and she stirred uneasily. What now? Listening closely, she could hear elves and knew that they were moaning the loss of their companion. Balagz grinned in the dark. Well, they could clean up the spoiled meat while they wailed!

The she-orc crouched back down, her stomach rippling painfully. But luckily nothing was left to come up. She curled up again and returned to her dozing.

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Dreaming again, Balagz found herself tied flat on her back to a rough wooden table in a dark cave lit by one torch. She looked down at herself with confusion. She was very short and barefooted. She gaped at her clothing, which was a long tunic affair. It was mostly white with a soft blue design in it. She had no armor or weapons. Though her wrists were bound, she lifted her hand and craned her head to look at a pale white-fleshed hand with slender fingers. She flopped back in shock and her heart began to beat quickly. What deviltry was this?

Suddenly an orc loomed into view, slavering and smiling broadly. It brought a cat-o-nine-tails hard across her stomach. Balagz heard herself scream. The orc laughed and called out something to his friends, but Balagz could not understand the words, even though it was orcish. Another orc came up to her and forced a bottle of something vile tasting into her mouth and when she spit it back, she was back-handed so severely, her jaw broke.

Amidst the damage, the orc got more of the cordial down her throat. It burned like flames and choking she managed to let out another ear-piercing scream as the cat-o-nine-tails hit her again.

Balagz mind went dark.

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But the she-orc's dreams continued dark and unsettling. They were not of her pod mates, or her first march across Middle Earth, hunting elves, or even the regular beatings she received as a matter of course. No, these were worse. They were of unspeakable tortures and pain. So much pain. She felt her body twist and ripple with the grinding of her bones and the unnatural stretching of her muscles. She could not ever remember feeling this way before.

And a Darkness, a foulness she had never before encountered, fondled her maimed flesh, enjoying her pain and inflicting more. Blackness that swallowed darkness and any light, covered her and penetrated her very soul. The invasion of her spirit burned and swelled within in her and then exploded into searing agony.

And it happened again and again until her wits fled hiding.

But even as she hid, she let water leak from her eyes. Humiliation swallowed her whole and she desperately wanted to go back to her pod nest, to something familiar. Even beatings from the pod master would be more manageable than this horror that would not end.

Balagz moaned in her deep sleep.

Then she opened her eyes suddenly. She was still hiding behind the barrels and crates. Feeling bruised and more miserable than she had from any beating she had received before, the she orc sat up. But all was silent around her, save the creaking of the wood.

She was moving! On the water? She listened carefully. There was a murmur of elvish and a sound like the wind made in high mountain passes.

Balagz found herself too weak to stand. Slumping against the wood, she did not even mind the burning it made against her exposed flesh.

Perhaps if she found another elf to eat—no, no, no. The flesh was sickening!

There was nothing around her, not even the small scurryings of creatures who loved the dark. Nothing but the sound of the wood moving, and.... elvish.

Balagz decided to rest again, but not sleep! No sleep! Perhaps her strength would come back to her and with it, her desire to eat.

Trying to get comfortable, Balagz was just about to lay down, when the ship stopped, and a sigh, a sigh that sounded like music rising to a crescendo and made expectation grow inside of her, filled the air.

The elves began to sing, their voices getting louder and suddenly, without warning, a bright light filled the space around her. A light so white and intense, she felt herself go blind. The light became the music and it pierced her through and through. Her body began to flail uncontrollably and though Balagz tried hard to stop it, she was flung against the wood one too many times and she sank into darkness.

A darkness that remained dreamless.

Balagz lay immobile. Only her eyes and lungs could move. She felt nothing. She could see nothing, but she knew the ship had stopped. It felt as if she was bound by ropes. But they did not burn. Nothing did, not even her blind eyes.

There was movement again and singing and her eyes began to leak. She felt sad and then not sad. Happy? She was happy? It was a word she only knew vaguely, a word usually used only in derision.

And then, too much light again. And music like a waterfall heard close by. And her flesh and bones were filled with it and she felt weightless.

And unconsciousness took her again, deep and dreamless.

A hand was feeling her face. A soft hand. A hand that was not hitting or beating or stabbing. A hand that was….gentle.

How? Why? She heard herself moan and she tried to move. Her body did, but only a little. There was softness under her skin. Softness that was welcome, as was the smell of growing things, flowers and the sound of water and birds.

Other hands joined the hands on her face. Warm, they touched her body and everywhere they moved, she felt less pain and stiffness and heaviness. She tried to talk but only her breath came out of her mouth and a small grunt. The soft hands rubbed gently down her face.

She still could not see. But it didn't matter. She was…comfortable. She stirred again.

Comfortable, that was the right word.

She lay still absorbing the change in herself. A change she could not fathom and only briefly thought might be some new torture. She could not remember too much about herself. The images she could bring to mind were indistinct. They were dark and unsettling, but they began to fade and soften quickly as fog burns off the river at noon.

Something warm to drink was brought to her mouth and her head was lifted slowly. Surprised, she drank it all and then felt sleep steal her away once more.

Blagaz rubbed her face slowly. She was propped up against soft fragrant things. She opened her eyes.

Blinking, she could see. She was in a room of flowers and vines. A scented candle burned at her side. It was on a tiny table were a glass stood, and more flowers, and some cloths. She looked down her body, which was unclothed and unfamiliar. She pulled herself more upright, as if to escape the form she saw.

Pale skin, long legs and small feet. She quickly brought her hand up and stared at it. It too was pale, small neat fingernails, unblemished skin. No broken bones. No scars.

She saw a length of very white hair across one breast. It rose slightly up and down with each breath. She lifted the soft tress and rubbed it between her fingers.

This could not belong to her. It must be some very unusual dream. Very unusual. She-she knew she was dark skinned and-and—bigger. And her body was twisted and bulky and broken. Not this pale, tender thing before her.

As she touched her soft face, and wondered at it's smoothness, an elf entered and came and stood silently at the foot of her, her…bed?

The elf had very long dark hair and he wore a deep maroon colored robe that went down to his feet. His eyes were silver grey and filled with warm light. They were fixed on her face and she could not turn away from him. He did not look or feel threatening.

"Good morning. How do you feel?"

Balagz contemplated that question a moment. No one had ever asked her that before.

"I feel…..soft." Her voice came out a bit dry and slow. She did not realize for a moment that she was not speaking as she had before.

"Soft?" He came up to her and laid a hand on her brow. Her eyes began to drift close, but he raised it and she felt herself more alert. "Do you want to see yourself?'

Balagz tipped her head at the elf. A strange question, but she realized, what she had seen made her curious to see more. She nodded.

The elf turned and went to the small table and brought her a small piece of shiny glass or silver and held it before her.

Balagz saw her face. And stared until her eyes burned.

She was an....._elf_! How could this be? She hastily pulled her hair aside and turned her head slightly to see her ears. Her pointed ears. She brought a hand up to her face. She had blue eyes and a small mouth and nose. And she smiled and her image smiled back at her.

"I-I am not broken?" She said in a half question, not sure what to say. She licked her lips nervously. "I am not-not dark?"

The elf shook his head and sat on the side of her bed.

"You have always been an elf. The Dark Lord twisted your _fea _until you did not recognize yourself or who you were or what you had been. You have come forth like a flower now, Amalylian, into the light of Anor, out of darkness."

"Amalylian." She shook her head, confused. "What is that?"

"It is your name. Your real name."

"My name." She stared down at her hands, turning them over in wonder. She looked up, her brow furrowed. "I had another name, but now, I cannot remember…." Her voice faded off uncertain, then she looked up at him. "Who are you?"

"I am Elrond. You are distant kin through my mother's line."

"This is your-your, um…elf nest?"

He laughed, a wonderful sound. "It is not my home, if that is what you mean. I live elsewhere. It is the dwelling place of Este, a Vala of great wisdom and compassion."

"Where is this Vala?"

"She is in council with other Valar. She bid me tend you."

"You are her-her….elf mate?"

"No Amalylian, I have a mate, Celebrian, who, with me, is helping Este here. There are many, many of you that must be brought back to the light, to your true selves. I help because I was a healer in Middle Earth. And helping here helps me to heal as well."

"Middle Earth. A healer. I see." Amalylian had no idea what he was saying. She yawned suddenly and surprised at the motion, she looked at the elf to see if he was alarmed.

"You are tired, Amalylian. You need to rest so your spirit may heal and grow." The tall elf stood and leaned over her, smiling, his grey eyes very bright. She could not look away. "Sleep now, Amalylian. We will talk again soon. You have much to learn. But now, sleep and dream of beauty." He lay a hand on her brow, and she sank into quiet slumber. Elrond, his heart full, bent and kissed her softly on the brow. Straightening slowly, he smiled at her and then left the bower. The light in her face was so heartening.

No longer a niggardly, dirty flame skulking in the dark, the light of Amalylian, not seen for Ages, shown forth, unbound at last.

.


End file.
